Resurface
by CelestialSands
Summary: Years have passed. Artemis Fowl the Second has a family. However, the reason behind the unexplained trips across the Tasman Ocean and his motive for moving the Fowls to Melbourne comes to light when his son is caught in the crossfire of a past dispute.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Since I'm just bored, I decided to shift some fanfic over to . Over from where, you ask? My hard drive and a site called FanGathering, of course. To any fellow FGers, let me assure you that I'm not stealing anyone else's work. This is Lost Across the Tasman over there, but I hated the title... So I gave it a new one. I'm I_C over there. Just so you know. _

Okay, here's a fanfic about Artemis' kid. Yes, I hear the groans. But this one is special because there's no quest to find him, no quest for identity. Cause he's dead. This one is to find out WHY he died. Not how, but why. There will be an epic adventure, involving...*stricken face* I almost reveal plot details! *gets keelhauled*

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><p><strong>Resurfacing<strong>

**An Artemis Fowl fanfic.**

**1**

I remembered a lot about my father's funeral.

The smell of hollyhock, my father's favourite flower. I remember him saying to me that they reminded him of Holly, whoever she was. I also recalled how he asked my not to relay his words to my mother.

His pale face, vampiric even in death. I sure that there were wounds where the fish had ate his flesh before they managed to drag him out of the ocean, but they managed to patch him up for the funeral. Who knows, he might crawl out of his grave at nightfall to bite my mother and I, and perhaps this Holly.

The tears falling down my mothers face, and everyone stopping by to console her.

"Mrs. Paradi- I mean, Fowl, we offer our sympathies."

Like their sympathies will make any difference. Dead is dead, sympathies or not.

The woman screaming at his coffin. She said, "You stupid man. One day, your son would look across the cold, grey stretch of ocean and wonder how it could be more special than him." She's definitely not a genius. I think that she's my aunt. Uncle Beckett's wife. And of course the Tasman is more special than me. Humans are commonplace, but seas with such a biodiversity like the Tasman Ocean are getting rarer and rarer.

The thing I remembered most, however, was the heat haze. All over the place, there were shimmering columns.

It would have been normal, but on the day of the funeral, it was three degrees Celsius.

Way too cold for heat haze.

So that remained a mystery.

Along with why he sailed across the Tasman so often and why he moved us all to Melbourne in the first place.

He claims he has business there, but I know better. I've hacked into his files often enough to know that most of his -our- money comes from Europe. He flies there a lot, too, but nowhere as often as he goes to Tasmania.

It also doesn't explain why he and my mother fight so much. It must be a genius thing, but Hayley and I are genii too, and we almost never fight. Or at least, not those yelling, screaming, and door slamming fights.

It doesn't explain why my mother is twitchy when I say Hayley's name. Maybe it's this Holly that my father talks about sometimes.

It's not fair. Hayley and I are just friends.

"Sommy! Snap out of it!"

Aunt Juliet. She's a bit older than my parents, and she's almost like family. She's my only confident lately.

I gradually fight my way to reality after my plunge into the past. Then my ears registers the sound of breaking china.

"You have to go up and calm your mother before she kills someone."

I grumble and make my way up the stairs. Since my father's death, my mother has been a little bipolar, going in a mad rage at times, crying for days on end on others and most of the time, retreating to her happy fantasy world where my father was still alive and Holly didn't exist.

For the past week or so, she has been in a homicidal state, always breaking something. Just the other day, she pointed a kitchen knife at Aunt Juliet. Since then, we have kept her in the attic and in near constant anaesthetic.

I was the only who could subdue her, as I am Somnus, god of sleep. To my mother anyway, because I was the only who could get her stable enough to accept the medication.

Actually, I am Somnus Fowl-Paradizo, the son of the late Artemis Fowl the Second and the clinically insane Minerva Paradizo Fowl.

Ah, how history repeats itself. At one stage, my grandfather was also 'dead' and my grandmother was also crazy.

Funny. It was also at that time were my father got into the most trouble.

As much as I will receive.

PS: Do not kill me, A/H shippers. Don't get too happy either, A/M shippers. Read the rest first before you decide to- Aahhhhh! Where did you get that flamethrower? I swear the situation WILL change.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: I will explain the plot hole in another chapter._

2

"Sawtooth! Go check on the prisoners!"

The first mate of the pirate shuttle grumbled. The captain of the _Mercy Star_(which the captain said was 'ironic', not that Sawtooth knew what he meant- after all, he was a pirate, not an English teacher) was getting more and more unbearable. Lately, he'd been muttering. Sawtooth once inched close enough to hear little snatches. "If they escape…. will have our heads…"

"Aye, Captain," Sawtooth replied, while inserting a long, yellowed nail into his admittedly oversized left nostril. The captain frowned in disgust. This gnome was loyal, as long as he got his gold, but he was absolutely disgusting. With that thought, his hand strayed onto the seat of his pants as he gave into the temptation to scratch.

"Alright! Let's see what you two are up to,"the ugly gnome said, using a stolen key card on the prison cell door. This shuttle was an ex-LEP prisoner carrier, and came equipped with holding cells for convicts. The demon in the cell moaned. Sawtooth grinned as the demon's eyes widened in alarm, seeing the wooden barrel in his hands.

"Don't worry. We're not going to dunk you today. Not unless you're too dry." This statement was followed by a loud guffaw.

The demon's voice was rusty. "I'm not dry. The awful animal fat is still clinging onto me. You guys are disgusting, did I ever tell you that?" He gestured with one of his fingers, as he couldn't use his hands. They were chained, using plasti-cuffs, to the wall. This wasn't the original design of the cells. The pirates had did some upgrading.

This pirate rolled his eyes. "I forgot the first one thousand times." He leaned down to inspect the cuffs. The demon was a warlock. He wasn't allowed to forget that. So he had to inspect the cell everyday, to make sure that this fella wasn't playing any magic hocus pocus. Being a criminal meant that he forfeited his own magic, which was an upside as the animal oil wouldn't cause any problems.

In the opposite cell, an equally rusty voice pipped up. "You checked on us every day for the past four years or so, and he had been repeating that for approximately 1459 days, once every day. So it's technically the first one thousand five hundred times."

The gnome frowned. "You shuddup with your maths, Mud Man. I'll come to check on ya soon enough, and you sound like you want a barrel of fat on ya, like your scaly comrade here."

There was a long suffering sigh from the occupant of the other cell. Clearly, this exchange took place every day.

The horizontal bars slid back in place. Normally, the cell door would be charged with electricity as well, but the electricity generator had been fried through the constant abuse.

"Okay, Mud Man. Your turn."

As he bent down to inspect the cuffs, the pirate found his gaze locked to the humans. Before he could process what had happened, the human had already said the magical words.

"_Your will is mine, fairy. Free the warlock and I."_

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><p><em>It seems that it is true that stupid people are easier to mesmerise, <em>Artemis thought as he rubbed his sore wrists. _The gnome was now freeing the warlock in the cell opposite his._

"Let's get out of here, Queffor. Thanks for the shot of magic, by the way."

"Don't mention it."


	3. Chapter 3

**3**

Artemis was not surprised to emerge in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. After all, it was a logical place for the pirate shuttle to loot and plunder. They could loot the shipping lines that went from America to Asia and Australia, while remaining undetected thanks to the sheer vastness of the large body of water. Finding a single shuttle in 165.2 million kilometers squared of ocean had to be difficult.

He was, however, rather startled at the large shadow that passed overhead.

"It's a ship. We had escaped into a shipping line." Artemis suddenly had a brilliant spark of inspiration.

"Qweffor, approximately what direction is the ship moving and where are we?"

The demon warlock fumbled with the complex instruments for a moment, then gave Artemis the information.

"It's heading north-west and we're sort of in the shipping route between Japan and Hawaii. In fact, we're fairly near as island."

_Interesting. We are near the Midway Atoll. The ship is heading to Japan… where there are ships heading for Port Philip Bay. _

Artemis grinned and pulled up behind the massive ship. He raised an eyebrow, catching sight of the name of the ship, painted in white block letters.

"Emma Maersk the Second. Named after its distant ancestor, formerly the biggest ship in the world that is in use, in 2010."

"Really?" asked Qweffor sarcastically, this piece of information meaning precisely nothing to him.

Artemis continued with his lecture, oblivious to his demon partner's lack of interest. "The Emma Maersk II is currently, like the other Emma was, which was scraped a good ten years ago, the biggest container ship in the world. It took five years to build, and is now one of the most energy efficient ships as well as being the largest. I have been thinking of commissioning the Emma Maersk II for the Fowl Industries, as I thought it was about time we got into the shipping busi-"

"What's your point, Artemis?" said Qweffor, exasperated.

That stopped him in mid-lecture.

"Why… It's simple, of course, Qweffor…"

Ten minutes later, the fairy craft was bobbing dangerously behind the behemoth container ship's very efficient rotors. Very efficient for propelling the ship forward and pulverizing human flesh.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Artemis?"

"It's not one of my best," Artemis admitted, "But it's necessary."

Artemis knew that approaching from the belly of the ship is impossible. It bottom of the ship is coated with silicon-based paint, which is used to deter barnacles and to reduce drag. Unfortunately for Artemis, it also meant reducing friction.

"Qweffor, is the distraction ready?"

"Yes. One pirate craft coming right up. Oh Frond, Artemis, you better hurry. I doubt even No1 can hold a magical figment of this size for long."

Artemis simple nodded, having donned the fairy suit made out of _memory latex_. It is designed to be a 'miracle of science' as Foaly had put it. Obviously, the centaur had designed the thing. It had an in-built water pressure diffuser, air mask, and a device that extracted air from water. It was so hi-tech that even Artemis had to (begrudgingly) agree that it was impressive. Obviously, it would have to disposed of once aboard the ship, being fairy technology.

Now it was time for the difficult part. Now it was time for the Emma Maersk II to gain an uninvited passenger.

The captain of Emma Maersk the Second was just doing his rounds. It was an extremely tedious job. The sweltering heat of the day really did not help.

After inspecting the two hundred and fifth Twenty Equivalent Units(TEU), and the three-hundredth Forty Equivalent Units(FEU), a loud bang shook him out of his boredom induced stupor. That, and the second-in-command's shouting.

"Pirates!"

The captain instantly snapped into battle mode. He calculated his odds. Not good. Modern pirates stole navy ships from powerful countries and openly waged war against virtually defenceless container ships. It happened more commonly on the Pacific and the Atlantic, as the ex-pirate hotspot, the Strait of Malacca, was impregnable in this era, even though there was an abundance of container ships heading in and out of it. The Malaysian Navy literally blew them out of the water, as the strait was narrow and easy to defend. However, in a protected channel was one thing. Being out in the big blue Pacific was another. The Emma Maersk II had nothing more than a highly pressurized water cannon and a tank of toxic bilge that no one dared to touch. Neither would do. Hardened pirates were not scared of a few litres of H2O. The toxic bilge was out of the question, too. No way could they even get it onto the deck of the ship without creating several deaths and a really big, really stinky ship.

The captain could see the ship now as he ran out of the walkway between the containers. It wasn't in the traditional image of a galleon with black sails. No, it was a grey battleship, exactly like the kinds that the US navy uses.

The captain breathed a sigh of relief upon closer inspection of the ship. It was a petite spy ship, not an outright gigantic warship. There was also the fact that it looked as though it was about to fall apart. He was grinning now. Since the serious looting in the last decade, container ships have the authority to take any action necessary to remove a threat.

"Turn the ship to starboard," he yelled. "Full speed ahead at the fella. Run 'er over."

A splash, as a torpedo hit the side of the largest container ship in the world. Emma rocked, her cargo perched perilously on board, thankfully held in place by supports.

The containers may have stayed on board, but an unfortunate worker didn't.

"Sh*t! Paul's overboard! Lower the ladder!"

The 'ladder' was a steel ladder that was located near the front of the ship. It could be lowered or stowed, depending on the situation. The captain of the ship rushed to the ladder while the sailor swam in confident strokes, to the front of the ship. The captain cursed the navy's upgrading. Why did they need to upgrade, anyway? Were they expecting a war?

The minute Paul got on board, the ship's engine was put in overdrive. Within minutes, the tiny spy ship was gone, in its place the Emma Maersk II.

The captain, nor anyone else, had noticed that the ladder stayed down until it was too late. But by then, the uninvited passenger was already on board.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I know Juliet is incredibly OOC. Oh well. She's matured, after all.**

_4_

I cast an anxious glance at her. So far, there hasn't been any big outbursts, but this cruise was going to last nine hours. The longest Mother had lasted without throwing a tantrum after her nervous breakdown was four. I jumped as a hand touched my shoulder.

"It's alright," said Aunt Juliet gently, her blonde ringlets done up in an elegant bun just for the occasion. "I'll handle her if she breaks down."

I look at Mother again. Today, with make-up done expertly by Aunt Juliet and curly hair brushed, for a change, she looked like the old Mother, before Father's death. Her violet dress ruffled in the breeze, her sleeves looking like butterflies. I had to admit that she had never looked better ever since the funeral. Looking at her, I could almost pretend that he was never gone. Mother smiled at me, pointing at the horizon.

"Look, Sommy, there's blue lights. I'll get Artemis to see, too. Where is that man, anyway?" she headed for the deck, muttering under her breath. I started to sweat. Soon, she would realise that he is no longer here.

_Better enjoy the tranquillity while it lasts_, I thought grimly. Beside me, I felt Aunt Juliet tense.

"Somnus," she said. "Where's your mother?"

Her voice was tight, like she was trying to keep the panic out. I glanced at the horizon, seeing the odd blue lights. I frowned.

"Is that natural?" I asked.

"No. It isn't. That's the problem."

She looked at the horizon again. "There's not enough time. We need to jump, now."

She grabbed me by the shoulder and tucked me under one arm. She then ran full tilt at the railings. With a deft swing, she vaulted over them but held on, for a moment, with one hand. I gasped. I had never known that she was such a gymnast. But one thought overshadowed the amazement.

"Wait, what about Mother?"

Her reply was a grim as her face. "We're out of time. "

With that, she let go. We splashed into the cold, freezing water of Port Phillip Bay. Aunt Juliet pulled me up and swam quickly away from The Spirit of Tasmania. The ship that my mother is on. A few curious passengers were staring and pointing at us.

"Wait," I said. But the next moment took the words right off my tongue.

The blue light hit the ship, and the aforementioned passengers just slumped down and toppled over. I suppressed my shriek of horror. A word, from a far away fragment of memory, surfaced in my mind.

"Blue rinse, "said Aunt Juliet, echoing my thoughts.

My next thought let loose the shriek I was holding in.

"Mother!"

Beside me, drenched in the near-freezing salt water, I heard a sob.

It was all a blur after that. Up until the port authorities stopped us, on land. Back on Station Pier.

"You are the prime suspects in the mysterious mass murder of the 150 passengers aboard the cruise ship, The Spirit of Tasmania. Please come with us to the police station."

Oh no. They've seen us jump, and they thought we set off the blue rinse.

Blue rinse. Why was that name so familiar, yet so foreign?

_The world is flashing by. So many fragments. A blue light is chasing us. I see Father carrying Mother. She is unconscious._

_I look up and see a pair of eyes. Hazel and blue._

_I hear random snatches of conversation, yelled between my father and the person carrying me. "… blue rinse… Opal… Solinium 2… half life… -teen seconds… Past self… lemur… Where did… blue rinse… Mind-wipe… moving my family… "_

_I catch the last word, loud and clear._

"_Melbourne."_

_The shattered pieces of my dream float away as I awake. There is only one thing I remember._

_The hazel and blue eyes that match my father's eyes perfectly. They look the same, but somehow, I know that they're not his._

**A/N: I killed off Minerva. Happy? Personally, I thought about saving her, but I realised that a madwoman would be a burden to the storyline.**

**So... what's with the mysterious flashback? Is Holly in it? Who set off the blue rinse? What will happen to Juliet and Somnus? **

**Ahaha... So many questions! They shall be answered in a few chapter's time.**


	5. Chapter 5

5

"There's an unauthorised shuttle over there!"

The harsh voice of his superior greeted a certain Chix Verbil as he opened his eyes groggily. His superior, Major Evergreen, was glaring at him.

"You're supposed to be on lookout! Not dozing off on the job! Now, handle that shuttle."

Chix finally got a good look at the incoming vehicle.

"Major, it's not a shuttle. It's an escape pod. Holy D'Arvit, someone's in trouble!"

For the first time in three years, Qweffor felt like himself again. He was back with the fairies, and he wasn't in a cell. Nor was he covered in animal fat, which he had rinsed off prior to getting into the escape pod. He felt as though he was on the top of the world.

Then, he was dragged down to rock bottom again because of two words.

Artemis Fowl.

"So, he is now on the biggest Mud Man ship in the world?" Holly said in disbelief. Qweffor may not be in official questioning, but it sure felt as though he was. Most fairies couldn't care less about the ex-public enemy number one, but Holly was different. She looked as though she had aged fifty years in the past three. Another twenty in the past half an hour, as Qweffor told Holly about the living conditions aboard _The Mercy Star_. Right now, Holly looked shocked.

"Err… yeah. I had to ram the pod into the ship so that a person fell over, and I had to use up my magic to make this smaller ship. You know, Foaly really wasn't exaggerating about how stupid his plans can seem."

"Typical," came the reply. "He's always got to make it hard for us to rescue him. Only this time, there's no solinium tracker on his boots."

"He wears loafers."

"Whatever. You get my point."

Qweffor decided to change the subject.

"So, anything interesting happened today?"

Holly rolled her eyes. "If by 'interesting', you mean 'incredibly dangerous and potentially deadly', then yes. Some idiot used blue rinse on a Mud Man ship in Melbourne earlier today. It's all over the news. See?" she said, turning the television on. The CNN news immediately snapped into focus, the newscaster halfway through the sentence.

"… and among the list of suspects are Somnus Fowl-Paradizo, the teenage son of late billionaire Artemis Fowl the Second, and a woman in her thirties who only wishes to be identified as Butler."

"D'Arvit," said the fairies simultaneously.

"Artemis' son and Juliet. My guess is that they're being targeted. Which probably means that whoever detonated the blue rinse planned this. "

Holly wasn't listening to the demon warlock. She had her head in her hands and was furiously massaging her temples, hoping to ease her sudden headache.

_Please don't let it be Opal again…_


	6. Chapter 6

**6**

Midnight.

Most of the crew were asleep. Only a pilot and several watchmen were awake, making sure that the ship was on course and safe from harm.

Well… a small percentage of the crew, and one more person.

Silent as a shadow, he slips into the kitchen. Spooning some leftover stew into an empty, abandoned bowl, and grabbing a glass of water with it, he shuffled out onto the deck stealthily.

Watchmen were swinging their flashlights, alert. The stowaway baded his time and waited for them to move away. He knew how they patrolled. Around the containers, then in between the stacks. Predictable. He could easily stay onboard, undetected.

His skinny frame easily fit through the gap between the orderly rows of containers. Balancing his bowl of stew and water, he cautiously made his way to the end of the crowded alley.

He sat down, and gulpped dowm his water, preparing for his first meal in days.

A rat came and sniffed his stew. It then took a little nibble.

Artemis frowned. "D'Arvit! That is my only meal for today!"

Every cloud has a silver lining. The rat stiffened, and let out a few strangled chokes. Artemis realised what that meant.

_Poison. Someone wants me dead._

Artemis thought he heard someone swear above his head. In Gnommish. Smirking sarcastically, he corrected himself.

_A fairy wants me dead._

"My life can't get anymore stressful, can it?" sitting down, he began to make a list of his fairy troubles, starting from the very beginning.

"Fowl Manor Siege, Bwa' Kell, C-Cube incident, Opal incident, demons, time-travelling, Turnball Root, my house getting blue rinsed, getting captured by pirates, and now, an attempt on my life." he laughed mirthlessly. So many trials in his worthless life.

_Focus, Artemis. You have a life to return to. A peaceful life. No more misadventures after this predicament._

As footsteps approached the other end, he picked up the glass and the still mostly untouched bowl of stew and turned into another path in the labyrinth of cargo, leaving the rat to stiffen in rigor mortis.

The clouds obscured the waning moon, giving a grim prediction of Artemis's luck, while the Emma Maersk II tilted from side to side, shaken by the waves of the vast, infinite ocean.


	7. Chapter 7

_7_

"Somnus Fowl. From now on, you have to refrain from calling me by my first name. Just call me Butler. Nothing but Butler."

I nodded dumbly. We were in a holding cell, ever since the interrogation. Icy shards seemed to surround my mind, freezing it, making it work agonizingly slow. Part of me knew it had something to do with losing my mother, nearly getting killed, and then arrested, all in rapid succession, but a larger part of me was already frozen and too numb to care. Aunt Julie- No, Butler, as she insists- had told me all about my father's involvement with fairies.

Apparently, he discovered them at the tender age of twelve, and kidnapped a fairy officer. He met my mother through an incident with the Eighth family, demons, and had a mental illness a few years later- which he had hidden from Mother. Initially, he had went through the chute to Tara… Until Fowl Manor, the mansion he had inherited from my grandfather, was bio-bombed. He then moved us to Melbourne, hoping that if we kept a low profile, whoever targeting our family wouldn't find us. His regular trips across the Tasman Ocean was to reach the nearest chute, which was in Tasmania, to get treatments for his condition. Mother knew about fairies, and thought he was going to meet the officer he had kidnapped twenty years ago, Major Holly Short.

Normally, I would have been sceptical. Not today. Not after everything that happened today.

Today, I just bury the information beneath the ice.

I remember the detective's face as we said we were innocent. The words, "Yeah, right." were written all over it.

Butler beckoned me. "There's people out there who will help us."

The ice won't let any excitement through. I nod again, emotionless.

The hours pass in silence. I felt nothing at all, while seeing and hearing everything.

I had dozed off fitfully when I felt myself being moved. I crack open an eyelid and see that it's Juliet. No, Butler.

"They've come. I knew they would."

I note that the outside wall of our cell has been torn down, and that there was some kind of vehicle outside. It seemed like a spaceship. Butler tells me to follow her into the shuttle, and I do. A bit of the ice is melting, allowing me to feel some curiosity despite myself.

The minute we stepped on board, the door closes and the shuttle takes off at a dizzying speed. A girl with auburn hair was piloting the ship, and a strange looking thing was in a corner, nervously chewing on its claws/nails. The girl began to speak.

"Juliet. Nice to see you again. Don't I get a thanks? I just broke you our of prison, after all. Also, I'm supposing the blue rinse isn't your doing. Also, Artemis is alive, it seems."

"Artemis is alive? Where'd you get that piece of news? You must be growing old, Holly. There's no way he can be alive."

Before Holly can respond to Aunt Juliet's words, I butted in on the conversation.

"Holly. So you're the on whom my father kidnapped, over twenty years ago."

She flicks a switch, and spins around, studying my features.

"You must be Somnus," Holly says. "Yes. He kidnapped me. Anything else you care to ask?" She spins back around to pilot to shuttle again.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Don't kill me! I've been really busy lately, so I couldn't update. Thank Frond for the long weekend... The evil monster known as procrastination was perched on my shoulder for the past month. Not that I think anyone was losing sleep over this fic, but still... to anyone that may have been waiting, I am so sorry!**

**The show must go on!(My motto for fanfiction... sorta)**

**Disclaimer: Like the 7 billion or so people excluding an individual named Eoin Colfer, I do not own Artemis Fowl. I also, like the majority of said 7 billion, do not intend to make any profit from this.**

* * *

><p>8<p>

_Quay Restaurant, Sydney, Australia_

This windows on her right offered a great, no, exceptional view of the Sydney Harbour Bridge, but Carla Frazetti's eyes simply skipped over the gleaming steel structure sparkling in the sun. Instead, she scanned the streets for suspicious people with weapons.

This certainly wasn't what the usual patrons of Quay did as they enjoyed their meals.

Her carefully manicured fingernails, coated with utmost care with black nail polish, beat a hard tattoo on the fibreglass tabletop. Her peekytoe she-crab salad, painstakingly prepared by one of the top chefs in the world(and costing her nearly twenty dollars) sat untouched on said table. She lifted her wrist and scrutinized the black, diamond encrusted watch that sat on her pale skin, scowling as the second hands ticked closer and closer to twelve, then past it.

After a decidedly long fifteen minutes, a tall figure, clad in an ash grey suit, approached the table and sat down.

"You're late," Carla snapped. Ever since Spatz Antonelli suffered a near-fatal stroke, Carla's patience had been dissolving decidedly faster than his. Part of the reason was because the task of paying the Mob goons now fell to her, due to the entire left side of the his body being completely paralysed. Carla was never one to like parting with cheques. Like any sane person, her preference was to receive them. The client obviously knew this, as he grinned and pulled out a photograph.

"Just one kill... and..."

Drawing out a pen from the breast pocket of his expensive suit, he wrote a number on one of the napkins conveniently placed nearby. Carla's eyes widened significantly, scarcely believing the number of digits scrawled on the piece of paper. Not long after, though, she narrowed her eyes again. It was lucky for the client that she didn't generally use mascara, as her slitted eyes were frightening enough naturally.

"Okay, who is it? I haven't worked with you guys before, but generally, a number like that is either the President or some other world leader," she deadpanned. "Don't tell me, you want us to off the Mafiya?"

"No. It's someone much harder than that, because the amount of security cannot substitute for intellect."

As she mulled over the statement, he flipped the photograph over, and Carla found herself staring into the icy blue eyes of someone who was supposed to be dead. Her eyes, already suspicious slits, narrowed further as she snatched the photo away from the client, preparing to crumple it up.

"He is dead. I remember sending the boy to his doom, up the Needle with Spiro." She tucked a stray ebony strand behind an ear, smoothing down her slicked back hair.

The client snorted. "Spiro, the idiotá? No, no, no. Somehow, the prodigy escaped. Just make sure he's dead this time. Cut him into pieces. Crush his corpse. Send me his head. Prove to me he's _dead_."

Carla gave a curt nod, her ice cold poker face back in place, as she laid the photograph flat on the table and tried to get rid of the wrinkles.

"Very well. Add another zero to the end, and another five at the front, and you've got yourself a deal."

She got up, even more cautious than she was when she entered. The client was… different. He was dangerous. Her internal alarms were ringing all through the meeting, but she had to establish the deal first. Carla definitely felt the need to get out as soon as the guarantees were made.

Her salad was still untouched.

* * *

><p>Later, Carla realised that the slight accent that she picked up from that person wasn't quite Spanish, or Italian. She was still trying to figure out his nationality while she punched in the number which she had been holding onto for a rainy day into her cellphone.<p>

Today was the metaphorical rainy day.

"_Hello_?" A groggy male voice grumbled in Japanese. Carla had a sneaking suspicion that the person on the other end was slightly drunk. Or hungover. She prayed that he would remember the conversation when he got sober.

"Ichiru. It's me, Carla."

"Hmm... Carla, Carla... oh yes, New York. If you think the baby is mine, I don't wanna hear it."

The mob princess ground her teeth. It was extremely frustrating to talk to this idiot when he was drunk. However, he could definitely kick a** when he was sober. Unfortunately for her, he rarely was.

"No. We did not have any relationships of that sort. I'm asking for a favour that you guys owed us. It's Chicago, by the way. I think you're drunk."

"Oh. Work. Yakuza stuff, riiiiiiiight?"

"Yes, yes. Debt collector, Chinese triad, you being drunk, Mob bailing you out via secret passage. Those words ring any bells?"

"Oh yes, I remember. Especially when you asked your men to beat me up when I asked for..."

"I don't want to hear it. You owe us one. I'm calling on the favour. You know, there's this guy that's due in one of the Japanese ports... how am I supposed to know? Look up Emma Maersk II, you'll figure out where's she docking, and kill this guy and throw the bodyinto the Pacific. He's bound to look a bit scraggly. I'll e-mail you the details. As long as you don't forget. I get a gang of metalmen to kill you if you do forget."

There. Finally. She'll never have to speak to the idiot ever again. _And_, she earned a good 5.1 billion with just one phone call. There certainly was a huge bounty on Artemis Fowl's head.

Carla grinned, revealing the ruby on her tooth.

_Mission accomplished._


End file.
